


Power Play

by kickcows



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: M/M, Office Sex, Sexual Content, authority kink, caught masturbating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-26
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2019-04-08 07:01:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14099943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kickcows/pseuds/kickcows
Summary: After a long day of listening to his subjects, Regis heads to his office to enjoy some ‘alone’ time with himself, until his Shield decides to interrupt him.





	Power Play

**Author's Note:**

> Day One for FFXV Kink Week! Prompts were 'Authority Kink' and 'Caught Masturbating'. Cross-posted from my [tumblr](http://heartlessfujoshi.tumblr.com/) account. Please enjoy!

* * *

Sitting on the throne all day can be a taxing day, contrary to popular belief. Yes, Regis holds the barrier over Insomnia, which can be quite taxing on its own, but as each person approaches the throne, it chips away at his soul. There is only so much that can be done in the day, what with meetings of the council and people of the Lucian kingdom coming to him to request for aid. It’s long days such as these that he seeks refuge in his office, wishing for time alone before he heads back to his apartment. He knows his young son is being looked after, the live-in nanny he’s hired giving Noctis the attention he can’t afford to give to him right now. He rubs his temples, the last person leaving the throne room, the door closing with a resounding slam.

He looks over at the window and sees night has fallen on his kingdom, not that it surprises him. Getting up off the throne, he walks down the short flights of stairs, and heads through a door, making his way to his office. He closes the door, and breathes a sigh of relief, unbuttoning his jacket as he goes over to his wet bar, pouring himself a large glass of brandy. Sweet on the tongue, the burn feels pleasant as it courses down his gullet; just the kick he’s been looking for since an hour after dinner. Pulling his chair out from under his desk, he drops down into it, and leans back, releasing a low groan.

Untying the tie around his neck, Regis unbuttons a few buttons to allow him to breathe a little easier. He sees a pile of reports sitting on his desk, but refuses to look at any of them. No, he’s done for the day; no more work for him. Taking another long sip of brandy, he relaxes back into his chair, letting the alcohol dull his mind, giving him a amiable buzz. Without thinking too much, he undoes the belt at his waist, and unbuttons his slacks, emitting a soft groan as he relaxes further.

Eyes closed, he thinks about his Shield, the man who is growing more and more handsome as they age together. His cock starts to grow stiff as he thinks about Clarus, the man no doubt at home right now, tending to his children like a good father should. Unlike himself, who is thinking perverted thoughts, one hand snaking down the front of his trousers as he keeps the mental image of Clarus in his head - the chiseled beard, stalwart eyes and grimace he associates with him coming to the forefront of his mind.

“Gods...” He moans low, fist full of his own cock, as he starts pumping it nice and slow. His cock is full of blood, thick and raring to go for a little play, even if it’s only with his hand. He tilts his head back against the chair, neck muscles becoming strained as he tries to push against his own hand. Unsatisfied with the touch, he leans forward, dropping his right arm onto his desk, left hand holding on tight to his cock as he finds a better position.

A loud knock startles him, his hand gripping tight to his cock as he looks up as the door is pushed open without him giving the okay. Only one person would be so brazen. The same person whose image is keeping himself aroused. “Regis, have you had a chance to look at this report yet? I’m not sure if what these people are asking for is valid, in any sort of the matter. More land, in exchange for more crops to the kingdom? Do they not realize that their crops are already ours to begin with?” The door slams shut, Regis making a fist with his right hand as he stays leaning forward. “What the devil is the matter with you?” Clarus asks, their eyes finally meeting. “Why are you bent over like that? Are you ill?”

“No.” He groans, thankful to the Gods that he’d forgone the idea of a glass desktop, instead choosing a deep mahogany instead. “It’s late. Why are you here still?” He picks up his glass of brandy with his right hand, and takes a large swallow, his cock throbbing against the palm of his hand as he tries to keep a neutral expression on his face.

“Don’t mind if I do.” Clarus walks across the length of his office, heading to the wet bar to pour himself a drink. “I’m here because you’re here. It’s always the same. I stay behind, in the off-chance that  _something_  might happen to you.”

“I’m sure I’ll be fine.” He takes the last sip of his drink, and sets the glass down on the desk. “Now, if you don’t mind - I’d like to enjoy the rest of my evening alone.”

“Wouldn’t we all.” Clarus drops down in the chair in front of his desk, taking a long sip of brandy. “You should stock better liquor in here, Regis. This isn’t as strong as it could be.”

Seeing there’s no way to get his friend to leave, he scoots himself a little further under the desk, and starts to stroke himself, maintaining a regal composure. “I suppose I could put a….” He takes a deep breath, one particular stroke on his cock causing his brain to go blank for a quick moment. “I could put a higher proof liquor in here. But who knows who would try to imbibe it?”

“Regis.”

He closes his eyes, knowing  _that_  voice his friend is now using. “Clarus, I-”

“Regis. What are you doing under that table.”

“I-”

“Do I need to order you to show me what you’ve got hidden under there?” 

His mouth drops down in surprise, but then the thought of his Shield taking the reins from him sounds all too promising. “You’d order me? Your King?” He asks, an air of defiance in his tone. “Just who do you think controls this kingdom, Amicitia?” 

A hand slams down on the desk, it taking more effort to not moan at the assertion the other man uses. “You tell me,  _Caelum_.” Clarus narrows his eyes, and leans forward over the desk. “In here, there are no titles.” He leans closer towards him, breath smelling of sweet brandy, just as his. “Tell me, what are you doing right now.”

The tension in the room could be cut with a knife, the tension only increasing the level of his lust for the man staring him down. Regis pushes his chair back, continuing to stroke his cock as it becomes visible to his friend. “Are you happy now?” He asks, the rigid flesh sliding along his hand, the Ring of Lucii cool to the touch on his heated skin.

“Have you no shame?” The question contradicts what is written on the man’s face, as Clarus walks around the desk to stand in front of him. “For someone like you - to do this in here-”

“Shut up.” He groans, squeezing his cock with enough force to cause him to close his eyes. “We’ve done worse things in here together, you hypocrite.”

“Get up.”

Regis lifts his head, as he stares up at his Shield. “What did you just say?” 

“Do not make me repeat myself, Regis.” Clarus walks over to the door, and locks it, before returning to stand in front of him. “Well, what are you waiting for? To grow old in age?”

“Are you ordering me to do this?” His cock drips precum onto his fingers, the warm liquid seeping between each digit.

“You’re not the King in here.” Clarus reaches down, and puts his hand on top of Regis’. “Now, do as I say,  _Your Majesty_ , or suffer the consequences.”

He bites down on his lip, Clarus knowing just what he likes as he moves their hands together up to the tip of his shaft. “You have to stop, so that I may get up.”

“You look like you’re already up.” Both hands are taken away from his cock, it standing at attention with no shame. The smirk on his Shield’s face causes him to groan, as he stands up from his chair. “Turn around.”

Shuddering at the command, he turns to face his desk, and feels Clarus push him down so that he’s prostrate against the desk. “Is this how you would abuse Your King? I could have you detained for this.”

“My King wouldn’t be such a  _whore_  for his Shield’s cock.” Regis groans, slacks falling down his legs as Clarus steps behind him. “We both know who is the one in charge right now.”

“We do not know-”

“Yes, you do -  _Regis_.” Clarus speaks low near his ear, rubbing one finger over his entrance. “Who is in charge right now.”

A thick swallow of spit slides down his throat, as he becomes worked up, the finger that’s teasing him now inside of his body, rooting around just to torture him. “I’m your-”

“Say it one more time, and I swear to the Astrals-”

Another finger is pushed in, the tips of both fingers nudging against his prostate, as a weak cry leaves his throat. “Y-You!” He moans, pushing his hips down to receive more pressure from the two fingers now just barely grazing that spot. “You, Clarus!”

“No. What did we say before?”

He grips the edge of the desk tighter, as another wave of ecstasy rolls through him, those fingers hitting him right where he wants. “My Shield!”

“Very good, Your Majesty.” One more finger is pushed in, as teeth tug down on the edge of his earlobe. “You do love being my bitch, don’t you, King?” 

A low moan escapes him, as he rubs his cheek against the desk, the hair of his beard going against the grain. “Fuck me, my Shield.” He hears the sound of a belt being undone, his hole beginning to twitch in anticipation.

“You were thinking about me as you jerked off, weren’t you.” It’s a statement that Regis doesn’t bother to deny, as he feels the bulbous head of Clarus’ cock start to tease him, slipping just the tip in as he feels oil splash onto his hole, Clarus’ cock slipping further into him with the extra lubrication. “You love to fantasize about me.”

His fingers curl tighter against the edge of his desk, nails digging into the wood as he nods his head. “Gods, yes.” He keeps his hips still, Clarus having complete control over him. “I can’t help it.”

“As it should be, my liege.” Every jab at his title has him moaning, his perverseness of needing to be on the other side always fulfilled by the man who is currently pushing his cock deep inside of him. “You obey  _my_  whims when we’re alone.”

“Yes, my Shield!”

Heat blooms through his entire body, as he’s fucked good and hard over his desk. He whines low - a sound unbefitting for a King - when Clarus pulls his cock out, but then goes with the movements as he’s turned around, his back connecting to top of his desk. Staring up at Clarus is all he needs, his hand going back to his own girth as he starts to touch himself, waiting for him to push it away. But it never comes, the two of them becoming lost in a hedonistic haze of lust - both chasing after the same relief that can only be met with one another. Clarus returns his hand to be over his, and helps to jerk his cock, the way the man pistons his hips pushes him up the desk, moaning loud with each rough thrust.

He screams his Shield’s name as he climaxes, the evidence of his release now coating both of their hands, allowing them to move at a more rapid pace. He moans, reaching up with his free hand to pull Clarus down towards him, their mouths coming togethre with a desperate kiss, one final slam of Clarus’ hips pushes his cock deep inside of him, coming with a low moan that Regis swallows into his own throat with a satisfied hum.

They take a few minutes to catch their breath, Clarus lifting himself up off of him, using a handkerchief to wipe away any mess left behind. “You know, you could have just sent me a text. You know I’m just a moment away, Regis.”

“I know.” He shrugs, struggling to sit up. He groans, rolling his head when he does manage to get up. “I’m getting too old to fuck on this desk. Next time, let’s do this on a bed.”

“As you wish, Your Majesty.” Clarus helps to get him fixed back up, the two of them heading out of his office together. “You off to go see your son?”

“I suppose I should.” They walk to the elevator bay, and step inside of one together. “How’s Gladio’s training coming along?”

“He’s doing well. He’ll be the perfect Shield to your son, Your Majesty.”

The two look at each other through the reflection on the elevator doors, both sharing a smile. “I hope so.” If their two sons should engage in the same manner that they enjoy, then that will only strengthen the bond between them, which he has no qualms about one way or the other. The elevator dings on Clarus’ floor. “See you in the morning, Clarus.”

“Good night, Regis.” They share one last look before the doors close, leaving the King alone.

He takes his sore body up to his living quarters, groaning as his body aches in places it shouldn’t. Growing old is not fun, but he’ll gladly use a few curatives to fix himself up if it means the two of them will continue to have relations such as they just had. Regis kisses his son good night, who is sleeping with his Carbuncle stuffed toy clutched to his chest, and retires to his bedroom. His bed is calling to him, and for once, he will obey its command.


End file.
